


Warm Bodies and Cold Hearts

by mother_finch



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen, mother-finch fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:42:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3637110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_finch/pseuds/mother_finch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT: root x Shaw prompt- root and shaw have been sleeping together for quite some time, but outside the bedroom, shaw plays it off like nothing. root usually takes Shaw's rejections and shaw "brushing her off" really well and usually never lets it faze her. but one time John is teasing Shaw about root and shaw freaks out and screams really angrily about how root isn't her girlfriend and root is just another warm body and doesn't care about her, root overhears and is extremely hurt/heartbroken</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warm Bodies and Cold Hearts

Shaw stretches her arms forward, arches her back, and yawns. Opening her eyes, she blinks a few times then rolls her neck. Two hands tighten around her waist, and their nose nestles into Shaw’s neck. She tries to look over, but she can only see a few strands of wavy brown hair. Sameen puts her hand over one of the two around her waist, and shakes it lightly.

"Root… Get up.." Shaw’s voice is drowsy with sleep, and she struggles to keep her eyes open. Root stirs, picking her head up and putting her chin on Shaw’s shoulder.

"Have to?" She replies groggily, and Shaw turns onto her other side to face her. She takes in Root’s sleepy form, and smiles at her messy hair.

"Have to."

Yawning, Root sits up and rolls her neck around a few times, leaning back on her hands. Shaw follows, sitting up, and leans her head on Root’s shoulder. Root smiles, the night’s sleep slowly wearing off.

After a few minutes, Root says. “We should get going, okay?”

"Okay," Shaw replies, eyes still closed. Root jerks her shoulder slightly, and Shaw turns to look at her. Root gives her a quick kiss on the mouth.

"Okay."

* * *

 

Shaw smiles, then lets her feet hang over the bed. She goes to the drawer to grab pants as Root puts coffee in a pot. Once fully dressed, Shaw grabs a hair tie, then walks out to the kitchen of the apartment. As she walks up, Root turns to face her, shirt left unbuttoned. Shaw steps forward and starts to manage the buttons.

"How thoughtful," Root says, eyes watching Shaw’s face. Shaw laughs to herself, then looks up at Root. The coffee maker beeps, and Shaw steps away to pour herself a cup. Once in the travel mug, she walks to put on shoes; Root reaches over to grab her own drink.

"Why do we always go there so  _early?_ " Shaw asks, taking a swig of her scorching drink.

"Duty calls," Root replies, pulling on a boot. "Nobody ever said it was easy being a super hero."

________\ If You’re Number’s Up /________

The two walk down the partially crowded sidewalk, and come to the corner. Turning, the entrance to their hideout comes into view.

"Do you think they’ve noticed anything?" Shaw asks, stopping a few feet away. Root slows and comes to a stand still beside her.

"Anything about..?"

” _Us_? I guess? We walk in together almost every day.”

"There’s nothing wrong with a couple of gals coming into work together, Sameen," Root replies, encasing Shaw from behind with her arms.

Shaw shrugs her off, then turns to face her. “Can’t you wait until later for that?” Shaw spits, flustered.

Root merely smiles, bringing her head in closer. In a mellifluous voice, she says, “ _No_.” With that, she closes the rest of the distance between herself and Shaw, and kisses her again, much longer than the one in the morning. Once done, Shaw shakes her head lightly with a small smile.

"What am I ever going to do with you?" She asks. Root shrugs her shoulders with intent eyes just as her phone rings. Taking it from her coat pocket, she answers.

"Hi, Harry." she coos, still looking at Shaw.

"Good morning, Miss. Groves. Are you by any chance near the station?"

"Right outside," she replies with a charming smile.

"Well, if you could stay there a minute or two longer, I am going to hand you a box to bring down to the rest of our team. I would deliver it myself; however, I have a prior engagement."

"Ooh, Harold’s got a date." Root jokes into the phone.

"More like a number in need of assistance. I’ll be there shortly."

"I’ll be waiting," Root assures him, then hangs up. To Shaw, she says, "Harold wants me to wait here, guess you’re going in alone after all."

Without a word in reply, Sameen brushes past her, and down the steps into their subway terminal. Once maneuvering through the dark entry way, she comes upon the smooth tiled floor and John Reese sitting on the bench. Seeing her, he nods, then stands.

"Where’s your girlfriend?" He asks casually, and Shaw freezes.

"My  _what?_ " She responds, a little too defensive. John gives her a knowing look and a humored smile.

From above, Harold walks forward, greeting Root. He hands her a large box filled with files.

"What is all this?" She asks, pulsing it up in and down in her hands to determine the weight. _Ten pounds?_

"Some things Samaritan did not want us to see." Harold replies with a serious tone. "And to insure we didn’t, none of it was online." Checking his watch, he adjusts his hat. "I have to go; I’ll explain more later." Root watches him as he carries off and is consumed by the bustling New York throng. Hoisting the box up higher in her arms, she turns and heads down the stairs. As she descends, Root hears loud voices from within their headquarters. Silently, she sneaks closer and listens in, realizing the debate is about her.

"If you have feelings for her, just say it, "John tells Shaw with laughter, then composes himself seriously. " _We are all supporters here_.”

"Oh, bite me," Shaw spits angrily, stalking closer to him. Her eyes burn with Hellish fire. "I don’t have feelings for her, or for anyone."

"Keep telling yourself that Shaw," he quips in reply. "Or should we all start calling you  _'Sweetie'_  now?” His eyes are filled with the good humor of a joke, but Shaw is not taking it as such. Pissed now, she breaks, screaming at John.

"You can shut it right now, Reese," Shaw fumes. "Because Root is just another warm body to me. And frankly, I couldn’t care whose body it is."

Reese’s eyes open a little wider, realizing how literal Shaw was taking it all, and how what he was merely fooling around with was actually happening.

"Shaw, I-"

"Don’t say a single thing about it, John," she replies hostilely. "I couldn’t care less what you have to say, just like I couldn’t care less about  _her._ ”

From her hiding spot at the stair case, Root lets out a silent and shaky breath. She licks her lips, then bites the bottom one, looking down. Closing her eyes, she presses them tight, wanting to erase everything she just heard. Her face contorts in anguish, and she painstakingly swallows the lump in her throat. She breathes in, heart crumbling, and steps out of the shadows. Box in tow, she walks straight forward- acknowledging no one. She angles her head slightly in the opposite direction of them as her face twists uncontrollably in another fit of pain. From beside John, Shaw watches Root, takes in her body language, and grits her teeth. Too angry at John, she remains silent, fuming. John stands like a marble statue, his eyes the only thing alive as they flicker back and forth between the two.

Root enters the subway car, then places the box down. Rummaging through, she pulls out a thick file, and opens the dust-filmed folder. Sitting on one of the car seats, she burrows herself within the pages. John and Shaw come in, each stopping to look at her a moment. She still acknowledges no one. Shaw shoots John a glare that shouts I’m-going-to-kill-you-later, and then grabs a random folder from the box.

"What is all this?" She asks, to no reply. "Is it what Harold dropped off?" Shaw’s voice is timid, like a hiker trying to talk down a starved lion. Root bites the side of her cheek and nods.

"Harold told me he’d explain them later."

John picks a different file up, then wipes some dirt off the cover; revealing a large, familiar symbol. “Samaritan,” John muses, trying to sound as casual as possible. “Didn’t even know they used paper.”

"Because they don’t," Root replies. Her words are choppy but strong. "They were hiding these from us."

"Then how did Ha-"

"I don’t  _know_.” Root interjects Shaw’s sentence coldly, and the subway car seems to drop twenty degrees. With slight awkwardness filling the air, Shaw takes in a breath, then goes to sit next to Root to read. As Sameen sits, Root stiffens, then brings her file closer to her face. Her hair ripples in front of her face like a brunette curtain, keeping all the emotions hidden behind the scenes. Shaw watches her a moment, sighs, then starts to look into the file- not really seeing a single word on the page.

___________\ We’ll Find You /___________

Harold clambers down the steps, and greets the trio in the cart.

"How’s the number?" John asks, turning to face him.

"Safe," Harold replies, a small and satisfied smile on his face. "I see you have started to dig into the files," he continues, coming to sit with his laptop. "I guess it’s about time I tell you what they are." Shaw and John nod, but Root just stares at Harold blankly. He looks at her a moment, and decides to press the matter later.

"Whatever is in these files, is obviously important," He starts, picking up one of the folders. "It may seem like a bunch of random people- and they are- however, they are faces we need to be wary of." His eyes are set in certainty as they meet each member in turn. "These are the people Samaritan wants to recruit. Every day people with ordinary lives that it has taken some sort of interest in.  _What?_  That is what we need to find out.”

"And how do you suppose we do that, Finch?" John asks, leaning against the subway car wall.

"Look at their files. Group them on jobs, strengths- anything that could be a valuable quality or asset to Samaritan."

"And what will this achieve?" Shaw asks.

"Presumably nothing," Harold answers honestly. "They don’t need saving, and we have no real way or reason to reach out to them. However, we can know their faces; we can understand their stories; and we can remember their names. You’d be surprised how far a little compassion can travel. Might just save your life later." After a moment, they all nod in understanding.

"How did you get these?" John asks, curiosity getting the better of him. Harold smiles in a warm but protecting matter.

"There was an opportunity." He says nothing further. Something shifts in Harold’s eyes, and he stands. Walking out of the car, he heads towards the more spacious desk.

"What is it?" John asks, following close behind.

"A number," Harold replies, sitting down and keying in a string of numbers. A few seconds tick by, and a face pops up with a small blurb below.

"Hannah Jacobs." Harold says aloud, looking at her photo. "Thirty-eight, brown hair-"

"Two kids, and a PhD in Mechanical Engineering." Shaw finishes from behind them. Harold turns around, questions ringing in his eyes.

"How did you-"

She holds up one of the musty files. “I read her file.”

"This is not good," Harold says unnecessarily, typing on his keyboard. After some sleuthing, he comes upon an address. "She works at, big surprise, Supercomputers for Computational Biochemistry." Another shift in Harold’s eyes, and he quickly pins in more numbers. A man, dark skinned with crystal eyes appears on the screen.

"I had his file," John tells Harold, looking the screen up and down. "Thomas Parks."

Harold’s fingers are lightning over the keys. “It appears Mr. Parks is a research associate for CELLECTICS Inc. Specializing in… Biochemistry.”

"This can’t be a coincidence," John says, met by silent agreement all around. "I’ll take Lionel and go pay Thomas a visit."

"Sounds good. Miss. Shaw- Groves- you are on Hannah Jacobs." Root looks up from her clenched hands at Harold; murder in her eyes. He diverts his to Shaw, whose own are not much nicer. "Well, um," he says standing, "have a safe trip."

_________\ Warm Bodies /________

The ride is silent and excruciatingly awkward. Shaw drives, mind reeling, as she continuously peers over at Root. Her head is cast to the window, and she looks out at the overcast skies.

"Do you, uh, want to turn on the radio?" Shaw asks at last, unable to bear the silence any longer. "Root?"

"No." It’s one word, but packs the punch of 1,000 bullets. Swallowing, Shaw keeps on their path, looking side to side until she comes across the SCB. She pulls into the parking lot, turns the key, and sits back as the engine dies. In the silence, she listens to Root’s breathing, wishing that if she were quiet enough, she could hear Root’s thoughts as well.

Root unbuckles, then steps from the vehicle. Shaw is close behind, and locks it. The parking lot is large like a stadium, and the building is beige and tall. Root is set at a staggeringly speedy pace, and Shaw has to start a light jog to keep up.

"Hey,  _hey!_ Can you slow down?” Shaw requests, grabbing Root’s arm. Root pulls away as if her touch is poison, but slows none the less. “Can we talk?”

"What’s there to talk about?" Root replies, dejection in her words. She looks straight ahead, and her eyes start to glisten.

"Whatever you heard to make you so angr-"

” _Angry?_ " Root asks, appalled. "I’m not  _angry_  Sameen, I’m-” she stops, shaking her head as she looks away. “Never mind.”

"No, I want to hear it." Shaw persists, looking straight at Root.

She stops walking and turns to face Shaw. Her eyes scream out in pain, and her voice is bitter.

"What does anything I say matter? I’m just a, as you put it,  _'warm body'_  to you.”

Shaw tilts her head to the side, annoyed. “ _That’s_  what has you so bent?” She asks, voice raising.

"Well,  _yeah_ , Shaw. That and you not caring.”

Shaw clicks her teeth angrily, looking away for a minute. When she looks back, the flame is gone from her eyes. In it’s place is something cooler. “What did you want me to do?” She asks in exasperation. She grabs Root’s hand in her own two and brings it to Root’s face. “Did you want me to walk in there holding your hand? Tell them all how in love with you I am?”

There is a surprised silence between them, both showing widened eyes at the words. Shaw drops Root’s hand quickly, then coughs. “I couldn’t do that,” Shaw says to the ground. “Would you have been able to?”

"Before?" Root asks with a harsh tone. "Yes. But now? I’m not so sure." With that, she walks away, brushing her hair back behind her ear. Shaw watches her go, watches the way she walks, how she carries herself.  _Something_ , she concludes.  _Something isn’t right_. She walks strong, but her head is cast down. Pursing her lips, Shaw thinks a minute, then sighs. She clicks her earwig over to a private line.

"John?"

"Hey. Root okay?"

"That’s what I was calling about."

"What do you need?" Shaw feels a lift in her heart at the willingness of John to help. She bites her lip, then- closing her eyes- says, "I need a favor."

__________\ And Cold Hearts /__________

Walking back from a long explanation to a clueless woman, Shaw and Root could confidently say Hannah was safe. On her way to a state where Samaritan’s fingers couldn’t pull her in. They head in to the subway’s terminal silently. It is utterly deserted; even Bear gone.

"Where is everyone?" Root asks, her voice masked with uncertainty.

Shaw merely shrugs her shoulders. “Maybe John and Lionel are still out. Bear probably needed a walk.”

"Well," Root sighs, going into the subway car. She grabs a box of ammo from a drawer. "I’m going to my apartment. I’ll see you tomorrow." As she walks past, not looking at Shaw, Sameen hooks her arm in Root’s to keep her stationary. Root turns to face Shaw, a sad smile playing on her face.

"What?"

"I… I need to explain some things… to you."

"There’s nothing to explain," Root spits, starting to turn. Shaw grabs her arm again, pulling her back around.

"Root. I’m  _sorry_.” Root looks at her, stunned. Having her full attention now, Shaw continues. “I got mad. Like I always do,” she adds with a chuckle. Then, she becomes much more serious. “And that was a _mistake_. You’re not,” she swallows. “You’re not just a  _warm body_. And I thought you’d know that; which is part of the reason why I said the first thing to John that would get him to stop. I didn’t think it would affect you. I didn’t realize…” She trails off, then stops completely. Root looks away, then down, and back to Shaw. She tries to bring up a smile, but can’t.

"I really don’t know if I believe you, Sam." Her voice is miserable.

"Then don’t," Shaw replies, but there is no hostility in her words. She steps closer. "Don’t believe me. Don’t sleep with me, don’t look at me- fine. But I’m still going to feel the same way about you. I’m going to go on  _missions_ with you, I am going to be  _flustered_ with you, and I am going to  _care_  about you.”

"Sam, s-"

"I’m not done. I had an entire car ride to figure this out, and I’m not stopping now." Root bites her lip, and stays silent. Shaw picks up once more. "Where was… oh, okay. I’m terrible at this- you know that. I’m not like you, I don’t do feelings well. I’d rather be angry." She shoots Root a dazzling smile before continuing. "But…" she takes in a large breath, "if.. you need.. me to hold your hand and tell you I care… I’ll work on that. Fair?"

Root looks at her a minute, then drops her eyes to the ground with a hesitant laugh. “… Fair,” she replies at last, a smile appearing on her face. Her eyes are sodden.

"Could’ve brought tears to  _my_  eyes,” Root jumps slightly, hearing the voice of John Reese in her ear.

"Yeah, who knew little miss Axis-Two-Disorder could come up with something so touching." Fusco’s wise cracking voice cuts in. Root’s eyes ask Shaw  _'did you know they were here?'_  She nods.

"I think it was well said," Harold puts in, walking in with Bear. He unleashes him, and Bear runs over to his water bowl.

Root’s brow is furrowed in confusion. Looking at Shaw, she asks, “Why did you..?”

"They needed to know. Just like  _you_  needed to know.” Root smiles, this time without any sorrow. Only disbelief and pleasure. Shaw takes another step forward. “Still hate me?” She asks with a smirk.

"Oh,  _Sweetie,_ " Root replies, her teeth showing in a happy grin. "I could never hate  _you_.”

"Good," Shaw replies with smug eyes. "That makes this a lot easier." She kisses Root- hard.

"What’s going on in there?" Fusco asks at the silence.

"Shhhh, Lionel," John says. "They’re having ‘a moment.’"

"Can it, John," Shaw says, pulling away from Root.

"Or what?" John counters.

"I’ll unleash: the Bear." Bear looks up, hearing his name, and yawns.

” _Oh no_ ,” John replies in mock-fear. “Not the  _dog._ ”

"Can we come inside yet? I’m getting cold out here." Fusco complains. A moment later, two pair of footsteps clatter down the stairs, and John and Lionel emerge. Faces swept with the cold, they still wear warm smiles. John nods to each in turn.

"Harold. Root.  _Sweetie_.” He says, a coy smile on his face. Shaw pulls her eyes into slits, but says nothing. From her side, Root slips her hand into Shaw’s. She gives John a mock-cross look.

"That’s my pet name." She says simply. John puts both his hands up, smiling.

"Well, it’s been a long day," Harold says at last, stopping the group’s bantering. "I think it would be best for everyone to go home. Get some rest." They all mumble in agreement, and Bear lays down on his bed.

"You still going to your apartment?" Shaw asks, as the two head out.

"Only if you are," Root responds casually, looking forward as they come out to the dark New York street. Lights flicker on buildings, and apartments are squares of yellow, but everything is mostly dark. Looking at Shaw, her eyes catch the small light like stars. She smiles, teeth lighting up the space, and she leans into Sameen as they walk down the street.


End file.
